


I do not envy Atlas

by kimchispaghetti (soondubu)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, M/M, Major Character Injury, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2019-10-15 01:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17519252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soondubu/pseuds/kimchispaghetti
Summary: The year is 2020. The attacks don't stop. Not only that, they get scarier. But there's one pair of pilots who are more than ready to take on any kaiju, as long as they do it together.





	I do not envy Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for hakkais_shadow for the 2014 round of sncj_santa

**Two days before the Event.**

Jongin was quiet in the mess hall, but then, Jongin was always quiet. At least in spaces like these. Yixing had long ago found that it was never quite that he got shy, rather he liked to bide his time. He liked to size up the people around them and decide whether it was worthwhile to join in or better to simply sit back. Jongin could be playful, lively, beautiful when he felt safe. He just never felt quite safe in the mess hall, and Yixing didn't blame him.

Only two days ago there had been another outburst from one of the newer recruits. It wasn't necessarily his fault; they all carried a great burden on their shoulders, regardless of their will to succeed. The outbursts just weeded through the weak faster. Yixing hated to think of it that way, honestly. No one who could even bring themselves to come here—so far not just from home but from civilization—and learn how to fight those monsters was weak. No one. Some cadets just took longer to find in themselves that inner strength they needed in order to stand with so much extra burden. The weight of the world's safety was heavy.

As they waited in line with their trays, Yixing never could help the way his eyes drifted towards Jongin. Even in his silence there was something magnetic to him. He liked to think that in another life Jongin would have been able to use that power, or at least to take advantage of it. Here in Nagasaki there was no one to appreciate it but him. While that definitely had its good points, life was always full of balances.

Yixing felt his tray leave his hands before the sound of the hand that slapped it reached his ears. The room fell silent in the wake of the aluminum clattering against the linoleum, the only voice left that of the one who'd caused the quiet. " _Oops._ " There was no apology or remorse in the eyes that Yixing's met, though, and he really wouldn't have expected to see any. Yoon Wonjoon had been giving him a hard time since day one. It seemed ridiculous that in this new world there could still be room for petty prejudices, but Yoon never let him forget it. At first, Jongin had tried to explain that there was a certain difficulty in being a Korean stationed in Japan, and that Yixing was the first non-Korean he'd forged any kind of relationship with beyond a polite acquaintance. But as the bullying not only continued but worsened, it was undeniable that Yoon was simply a bad apple. Asia needed protection, though, especially its vulnerable peninsulas and islands, and Yoon quickly proved himself an excellent Ranger, terrible personality aside. There was still great satisfaction, however, in the fact that both Jongin and Yixing had made it through the program two weeks faster than Yoon had.

"He's such an asshole," Jongin muttered, watching like a cat as Yoon stalked off with his own meal.

"He isn't worth the energy," Yixing said gently, and knelt down to start picking up what he could.

After getting new rations, Jongin in tow the whole way, they turned around to realize there was only room enough for two together at Yoon's table. Yixing pressed his lips together briefly and glanced at Jongin. "I'll sit with my friends today–"

"No," Jongin said, and carefully took Yixing by the arm to pull him over. "I want to sit with you, and if he doesn't like it, he can move." But Yixing didn't like the way Yoon's smirk resurfaced as he watched them approach, or the way he laid his chopsticks down beside his bowl as Yixing slid into the seat across from him.

"That seat's taken," he said in Korean. Jongin glared; Yixing ignored him and finally began to eat.

"By what? Your ego?" Jongin said in Japanese, a determined but weak attempt to keep the conversation in the common language of the Shatterdome. He wasn't touching his food, which had long since gone cold. Yixing nudged his knee with his own under the table.

"My pride," Yoon said, again in Korean and again without a single trace of apology—or sarcasm.

"I figure your head's so far up your ass you'd have trouble using one seat, let alone need two."

"You know, it must be really difficult drifting with a _jjangkkae_ —"

Yixing flinched, pausing with his chopsticks halfway out of his mouth. His eyes had remained discreetly on his plate as he watched Jongin in his peripheral vision, though there was no need to. He could feel the way Jongin's blood was simmering, and the way it spiked to a boil at that word. "Shut your fucking mouth, Yoon."

"—You didn't let them make him main pilot at least, right?"

Before Jongin could open his mouth again, Yixing's hand reached to tightly curl fingers over his forearm. It was enough to silence him, but not enough to stop him from jumping to his feet. That seemed to be the signal Yoon was waiting for, as he followed not a half-second later. Yixing wished for almost nothing more in that moment than to be able to wipe that sickening smirk from his face.

"Aw, you did, didn't you? Then maybe it's a good thing you don't need to talk when you drift. It could take hours–"

Jongin leaned back just enough for Yixing to know exactly what he was planning to do. He tightened his grip on his arm, glad then for his decision to sit to Jongin's right instead of his left. It was enough to stop him from throwing the punch he wanted to, but the slight lurch forward had been enough to trigger Yoon. Jongin took a hard hit to the cheek, and this time the cafeteria erupted with noise. Yoon's friends were quick to prevent another blow, but the damage had been done, and everyone had seen it. "Let's go," Yixing said quietly, and pulled Jongin away from the table, leading the way to the infirmary.

 

 

**One day before the Event.**

Much of the swelling had gone down overnight, so that by the time Yixing awoke, Jongin almost looked like himself again. His cheek was badly bruised, high on the bone, but it was almost attractive in a way. Yixing wondered if maybe that feeling had more to do with the reason _behind_ the bruise, rather than the bruise itself, though. He rolled over, edging a little closer to Jongin and draped his arm over his waist. The twin bunk was a tight fit for the two of them together when they dared, but there hadn't been a question of sharing last night. It was always inevitable that Jongin would end up on his back by morning, though, with Yixing barely holding on. It was always worth it, too.

More often than not, Yixing couldn't help feeling like it had been pure luck that he and Jongin had turned out to be Drift compatible. Their introduction had been a fluke and long before they'd been called to the combat room, and even then, in that first moment, he'd felt something click with Jongin. He liked to think he saw it click in Jongin's head, too. That was one memory he had yet to see during the Drift, yet one he quietly hoped for. Somehow, it just didn't feel right coming out and asking—or maybe he just selfishly wanted to see it through Jongin's eyes, instead of his words. Neither of them were very good with words most of the time anyway. At least inside the Drift they didn't have to be.

At the wriggling of Yixing's fingers, Jongin stirred lightly. He was still such a child sometimes, mainly when he slept. Yixing delighted in it. Smiling softly, he pressed a careful line of kisses along Jongin's other cheekbone, ending at the corner of his mouth. These tricks never really roused him, but they had quickly become a favorite part of Yixing's morning routine. They edged Jongin back into wakefulness slowly and sweetly, and always with a smile. It was a tiny pocket of normalcy, something rare inside the Shatterdome. What could truly feel normal about this place anyway?

Although he'd only just begun, Yixing's efforts were interrupted by the intercom, the voice of Marshal Takanawa coming through. Jongin woke at once at the sound of his name, and turned wide, confused eyes to Yixing. He stole a quick kiss before climbing over Yixing to go to the door. Yixing sat up on the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the edge. Jongin's nervousness was unsettling him, although he was only confused himself. But anxiety of his own blossomed when nothing was explained, and instead Jongin was intructed to meet with the Marshal in half an hour to discuss what would happen next.

Jongin waited for a few beats until he was sure they were alone again before covering his face and swearing.

"The only one who hit anyone was Yoon," Yixing said.

"I would have, if you hadn't been there."

"You mean you would have if I hadn't held you back." Jongin scoffed and Yixing smiled innocently. The sight seemed to soften Jongin, at least enough that he came back to sit beside him on the bed. Short fingers and a warm, wide palm laid over Yixing's thigh, rubbing meaningfully, but with more than a little frustration. But Yixing knew that had nothing to do with Yoon for once. "I don't think you're in trouble," he said.

"Why else would I have a meeting?"

"Well, there's been conflict between the two of you for some time. Maybe they've decided to settle it."

" _How_ , though?"

Yixing didn't have an answer for that. All he had was another careful kiss, which Jongin met without a moment's pause, though it seemed to settle neither of them.

 

 

**November 10, 2020.**

It had happened very quickly, and as the clock ticked over to midnight, Yixing was still trying to process the silence of his room. Jongin wasn't _gone_ , not forever. He'd been advised to take personal leave for a few weeks, spend time with his family in Seoul and reacclimate. To what exactly, Yixing couldn't be sure, but he also couldn't argue that some time on the outside for a change might do Jongin some good. He'd been talking again lately about his frustration at having to miss _Chuseok_. After hearing so many stories about seeing his family, extended stays in the countryside where they did nothing but eat and play and enjoy each other's company away from the lights and noise of the city, Yixing could understand. And now, still here, alone, he could understand it even better than before.

Jongin's solemn face as he'd come back into the room after a nearly hour-long meeting had confirmed what Yixing had suspected. He'd felt the way apprehension changed to defensiveness, changed to resigned defeat. "What about Yoon?" He'd asked. _Expelled_ , came the reply, but there was none of the triumph either of them had long hoped that moment would contain.

Another twenty minutes ticked by, the cold stillness of the room crushing Yixing more and more. He'd exhausted his ideas for keeping the loneliness at bay hours ago—but he also had a feeling that Jongin wasn't faring any better himself, and that that was half the problem. He was willing to let it happen, then. They needed time to feel things out, even if they drove the other mad in the process.

The sound of klaxons startled Yixing out of his daze for the first time since the door had shut behind Jongin. Now, of all times, as if the kaiju could smell despair in the air. Yixing rolled dutifully out of bed and dressed for deployment. His thoughts trailed only briefly back to Jongin, wondering if this could have been their first real mission together, before he locked them into where he needed them to be. He would not see combat this time, but he would be needed to help save some lives. _That_ he knew how to do and had done before—but it would be very different with Jongin to lean on.

There was a clench of terror in his heart as he followed the others through the corridors. No one knew what they were in for yet, but it was not the general fear and uncertainty of his peers that Yixing felt. Something wasn't right with this one, and while he worried that it might be headed towards China, his heart told him that wasn't quite it. Muted terror gave way to his own when the words _Seoul, South Korea_ left the Marshal's mouth. Yixing forgot how to breathe, to blink, to do anything at all but conjure up as much of Jongin's face as he could remember in that instant. He needed to burn that memory into his mind. It needed to be strong enough to come through in every Drift—but the idea of Drifting with anyone else brought on a wave of nausea, and a ringing in his ears that drowned out most of the mission briefing. He knew the drill, though, knew where and how to follow the others and let himself be pulled into the right group with one of his friends. Meili knew the look on his face, understood what it meant, but Yixing could only hope for gratefulness to find him later.

Yixing was quiet in the helicopter, distant gaze fixed on the floor. His breathing was even because it was all that could keep him focused, careful counts of _1... 2... 3..._ to stay steady as they headed towards Seoul. The outskirts of the city had evacuated efficiently, a testament to the success of the Kaiju Emergency System and how quickly it had come along in such a short amount of time. It was the inner city they would be assisting with—the elderly, hospitals, and keeping the general panic under control. Atticon was moving swiftly, but there was time enough to get all civilians to safety. Jongin would stay level-headed. Jongin knew these streets and how to get from A to B in his sleep—often had, in high school, always dreaming of enrolling in the Academy. When they arrived, Yixing was again pulled along by Meili, and not until the roar of the propellors filled his ears did he find himself again. Jongin knew how to take care of himself here, and not just from his training. There were others he needed to be worrying about. And they were everywhere.

It was almost impossible to tell that the outskirts had been evacuated for all the panic surrounding them as they entered the city. Each squadron was sent in different directions, dropping into the districts to immediately begin corralling people to the nearest shelters. Yixing had no idea where he'd ended up, but between the GPS at his wrist and the advice of Meili, he was able to gain the trust of a band of middle school students and their teachers. It surely helped that he could recall enough of the Korean he'd learned from Jongin: _Hello. We are here to help you. Follow us._ The repetition of these three simple phrases was as endless as the trips to and from the shelter zones. But it made all the difference, and they became something of a mantra to him, empowering him to continue amidst the sounds of screams, and the crying of the small girl he scooped up into his arms as he helped to lead a group away from a shopping complex. He understood her fear, alone and abandoned, and close to her ear he said one of the only other things he knew. "I'm here, so you don't have to be afraid."

The streets were clearing, and Yixing could only hope that the other squadrons were having as much success. There had been no casualties, and only a few orphaned children, like the girl he'd found. He held onto the hope that their parents, or at least friends or teachers, would find them in one of the shelters. Although his adrenaline was still running high, he was starting to feel more like himself again, thanks to the success they were seeing. Cherno Alpha had already been deployed, ready to head Atticon off before it could reach the city.

The sonic boom of their clash, then, came as a tremendous and terrifying surprise. The resulting tremble of the ground was worse though, and the way it travelled up the buildings. Yixing watched them warily as they swayed, but nothing collapsed. A voice came through his headset, giving the all-clear—and another came through immediately after to negate that. A building, not one of the towering ones, but something smaller and poorly maintained, _had_ collapsed, with a handful of people still inside. Yixing's squadron was closest, and with a glance at his compass, he began to sprint, joining up with the others as they made their way towards what he hoped would be their final rescue.

It was almost a wonder that it had taken something like a kaiju attack to finally topple the building they came upon. Support girders stuck up through the cement like a skeleton on one side of the shop, and the sun shone off the broken glass of the windows like a million glittering beacons. Yixing spotted Meili already at the scene, standing some distance from the rubble although others were already digging through it. Her hands were clenched at her sides, but only when Yixing got close enough did he realize she was shaking.

"What's wrong?" he said, hand reaching for her shoulder as he turned to look over the mess. He braced himself for the worst: body parts, blood, still faces frozen with their last moments of fear. What he saw was a team of three bracing themselves to lift a particularly large piece of cement off of Jongin.

Yixing forgot how to breathe, to blink, to do anything but run to his side, throat and eyes full of tears. He tore off his helmet and gloves, reached at once for the hand Jongin had outstretched for him. The moment their skin touched was a moment Yixing wasn't ready for: Jongin was already so cold. "Did they find them?" Jongin whispered.

"Find who?"

"The girls. Three sisters."

" _Jongin_." Yixing's voice faltered, and the first few tears fell. "There are many of us. I'm sure they're fine."

"I'm...glad it's you, _gē_." The smile Jongin managed, tiny and tired as it was, brought one out of Yixing despite himself. He had so many questions to ask, yet had a good feeling he'd be able to answer many of them himself. "I forgot to tell you... before I left."

Yixing swallowed. He brought his other hand around Jongin's, desperate to warm him even a little. "What did you forget?" Before Jongin could speak again, though he was laboring to take in the breath for it, Yixing was shooed away so a stretcher could be laid down. He thanked God that Jongin was at least _whole_ , though there was blood everywhere, and his legs would clearly never work again. He stood by, breath held, as medics moved him and began to cart him away from the wrecked building, to a safer area. But he was close behind them; Jongin felt calmer than he had in weeks, and that only frightened Yixing more.

The sounds of the battle boomed in the distance, but it was nothing but background noise now. Yixing swore he could hear every scrape of gravel beneath his boots, every shaky breath that left his lungs as he hurried over to Jongin. It was impossible to simply stand by and let the medics work, but he was grateful they didn't try to shoo him again and didn't want to give them reason to. Jongin grew very still, closing his eyes as they prodded him, attached any number of fluids to needles in his veins. Yixing pretended not to hear their debate about field amputations, and as a reward, he was eventually waved over. He let out one more long, low breath as he lowered himself to his knees beside Jongin.

There were abrasions all over his face now, and they nearly masked the way his cheek had blossomed deep purple. But Yixing saw it, and he knew it, and he wanted nothing but to cover that spot in all the kisses he had left in him. "I'm here, so you don't have to be afraid," Jongin said lightly, and lifted a hand to reach for Yixing again. He scooped it up in both of his hands, not daring to squeeze as tightly as he wanted to in case every part of Jongin was now as fragile as he looked.

"You can't leave me again." He brought Jongin's hand to his lips, pressing them against his knuckles as a few more tears fell. "We came too far together."

"Come closer," Jongin said, and pulled at Yixing's hands to make sure. Yixing leaned in close, took the opportunity to press his forehead briefly to Jongin's chest. At least that was still warm. Jongin made a small noise to pull Yixing away from that safe spot, though, and move him closer to his mouth. Between the sounds in the distance and the rush of fear in his ears, it was almost impossible to hear Jongin's whisper, even though it was everything they'd been dancing around for months. " _Wo ai ni._ " It came coupled with a brush of his mouth over the shell of his ear, and a stifled sob from Yixing. So much time spent waiting, only for it to be...now. He wanted to make a joke, maybe something about how his pronunciation was lacking or how he sounded like a romance novel or even how you couldn't just _say_ that to people, no matter how true it might feel. Instead, he turned to push a gentle kiss to Jongin's mouth, not caring a bit for the way the medic behind him cleared his throat.

"我也爱你," he whispered, before finally shifting back again to let the medics take over. Jongin's breathing was shallow, but even now Yixing knew he wasn't afraid. Yixing tried his best to hold onto that feeling, to share it as if they were Drifting, even as it continued to fade.


End file.
